


Innocence

by JessicaDoom



Series: Innocence & Instinct [1]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Child Abuse, Childhood Sexual Abuse, Childhood Trauma, F/M, Father-Son Relationship, Harm to Children, Implied Sexual Content, Kidnapping, M/M, Non-Explicit, Psychological Trauma, Redeemed Draco, Sexual Abuse, Sexual Assault, Sexual Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-11
Updated: 2015-02-11
Packaged: 2018-03-11 22:40:34
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 18,260
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3335444
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JessicaDoom/pseuds/JessicaDoom
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>Draco Malfoy’s life as he knew it fell apart in the early summer of 2011. The war, his cold childhood, the Dark Mark that held him back in life – nothing could even compare to the agony he felt that summer.</i>
</p><p>When Scorpius goes missing, it tears his father apart irreparably. At the same time, Scorpius has his own terrors to deal with. Terrors that leave the family in pieces.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Innocence

**Author's Note:**

> Consider this a BIG, FAT warning before you read. This is a heart-wrenching tale and I guarantee it will tear at your heart strings. But I want people to be aware of its contents before reading. The following story and its sequel will contain a heavy load of sexual/physical abuse towards a child and kidnapping. If this makes you uncomfortable, please do not read.  
> That being said, I really do like how this story turned out. (It is long, I know, but worth it.) I spent most of my birthday (alone, today) completing this because I felt the world needed it. And here it is. Please, please, PLEASE let me know your thoughts and...again...please head my warning if you do not like reading such things or have triggers.  
> ENJOY!

 

Draco Malfoy's life as he knew it fell apart in the early summer of 2011. The war, his cold childhood, the Dark Mark that held him back in life – nothing could even compare to the agony he felt that summer.

The morning that  _it_  happened was normal. Nothing was out of the ordinary to signal that things were about to turn completely upside down. No canary-like sign was there to warn him of the heartbreak he was to experience. If anything, that morning seemed to go extra smooth. He rose out of bed, more awake than he should have been considering the hour at which he and Astoria had fallen asleep.

They made jokes over breakfast and Draco did his best to hide the telling purple skin on the side of his neck with collared shirt beneath his robes. Scorpius ate his food without provocation and chattered on about how excited he was to go shopping with Mummy after Daddy 'finally left'. If Draco really had to label it, he would have said the morning was perfect.

He shouldn't have left.

When his wife poked her head sheepishly into his office around noontime later that day, he really didn't think much of it. He knew they were going to be out that day. They oftentimes stopped by to say hello.

"Toria, I really don't have time to lunch with the two of you today…," he sighed, barely glancing up with a rushed smile. It was the type of smile that he used when he was just trying to be polite. Work was hectic – it was a Friday. Everything seemed to pile up on Fridays…. Everyone waited all week to get their paperwork done and then rushed through it to be off on the weekend. And since Draco's job as the Auror task manager meant he usually sat around reading field reports and proposals….

That day, like most other Fridays, Draco's desk was piled high with files and slips of paper. He was buried behind them and only had the smallest of windows in which to actually see the woman in the doorway.

But it still wasn't a bad day at that point. Not quite. It was just…normal. He had a heavy workload, but he had expected that.

"Dray, I need to speak with you…."

The tone of Astoria's voice drowned out any other sound of the world around them. The memos flying around his office appeared to cease their flutter. The rest of the usually buzzing Department of Magical Law Enforcement seemed to fall completely silent. All Draco could hear was a sharp, metallic silence. The type that could cut like a razorblade if it wasn't challenged soon. He stood slowly, pushing a large stack aside to better see the woman a few feet away.

If Astoria's tone hadn't alerted him to something being amiss, her expression sure would have. Having been raised in a Pureblood family, Astoria never carried herself with anything less than the utmost dignity and class. She had been groomed into a model woman who never showed her flaws. In the entire time they had been together, Draco had only seen that façade fall twice in public.

Once on their wedding day. The instant she stepped in front of him at the altar, she crumbled into a giddy girl. She was happy and joyous for the best day of her life.

The second time had been during Scorpius' birth. There had been some complications and she lost it. Panic set in and it took every single ounce of her remaining sanity to follow the Healers' instructions.

Other than that, aside from in their home away from the rest of the pressuring world, she was always absolutely picture perfect.

But not today. The brunette hair she usually kept up in an intricate bun had fallen into a state of disarray. Dark strands hung in her face and gave her a bedraggled air. Her makeup was thin, as if she'd cried half of it off. And her expression…. It was somewhere between fighting to keep calm and absolutely falling to pieces.

Within seconds, Draco was across his cluttered office. He grabbed Astoria by the shoulders, biting harshly at her shoulders out of fearful anticipation. "Talk about what?" he whispered, his words so dangerously quiet they almost weren't audible. He would have shouted the question, had he thought he'd actually want to know the answer.

A creeping, fiery feeling in his stomach pushed his brain into overdrive. Within the silent few-second span between them, a thousand different answers fired between his synapses. But somehow he knew that the one he dreaded the most would be the one to be true.

He knew it before she even spoke the words aloud.

"It's…. It's Scorpius, Dray. I…. He's…." The woman before him – usually so strong and resolute even when he didn't think he could keep things together anymore – completely came undone in his arms. She fell to her knees, desperately clinging to Draco's robes; pulling him down with her. His arms made an attempt to encircle her body wracking with sobs, but she gave a frightful scream and flung away the comfort. "He's… _gone_."

 _Scorpius is dead_ , his mind supplied for him.  _Your only_ _child_ _is dead._

~*~

_Fridays were a special treat. Scorpius loved when he could look up his father's calendar and see that his favorite day had rolled around again, as indicated by all the x-ed out days before it._

_Fridays were the day Mummy took Scorpius shopping._

_It was the day that Mummy would sit him on the plush furniture outside of the dressing rooms. She would come out in such beautiful outfits and dresses, preening at him until he made a thumbs up or down. Mummy had groomed her baby boy to be her personal style expert. And she usually listened to his advice. At the age of five, he wasn't capable of thinking she may just be doing it to humor him._

_It was the day that Mummy would take Scorpius to the toy store and allow him to pick out_ one _toy. He would spend so long up and down every aisle, having to see_ everything _. Most often he would end back up right where he always did – the plush animals. He could point out all of the ones he had at home, slowly but surely taking over his bed. And then he would choose the next one to adopt. They were his and he felt like he was rescuing them. Giving them a home and a father to take care of them._

_It was the day that Mummy would bring him to visit his father at the office. They would walk through the Atrium of the Ministry of Magic like it was where they belonged. Mummy's heels clacked powerfully on the floor, demanding attention and respect. Giggling, Scorpius always tried to make the same noises with his little dress shoes, but only ended up stomping around a lot. They would ride the lift down to the second level, Scorpius babbling off to anyone who would listen about who his daddy was and how he was going to surprise him today and, oh, did they happen to see his new furry baby?_

_It was the day that Mummy would urge Scorpius to sneak through the Department of Magical Law Enforcement towards the back corner. They would tip-toe and whisper,_ just in case _. Anyone could be listening. And when they finally reached Daddy's door, Scorpius would pop through the doorway and jump up onto the edge of his toes to try and see over the paper stacks on the desk before him. "Daddy, are you buried yet?" he would giggle and scurry around to the other side, grinning up at the blonde man. His hair was always out of place, as if he'd been fussing with it, and there was often a quill stuck between his teeth._

 _It was_ always _a good day._

_This Friday started out no different than all the rest. Scorpius had absolutely no suspicion that anything bad could happen. He woke bright and early, barreling down the stairs to the breakfast nook, dressed in his best navy shorts, a yellow vest and white shirt combination, and a navy derby hat. "Mummy's dapper little gentleman!" Mummy exclaimed as he climbed up into his chair._

_Scorpius beamed proudly and straightened his collar. Daddy swatted him playfully on the shoulder as he settled in beside him. They all laughed and dug into their breakfast. Scorpius found it difficult to keep his mouth shut, explaining all of their plans for the day to his daddy. As he did every single Friday. And his daddy would always smile and pretend like he didn't know the mysteries of what went on while he was away. Like it was a treat to be told of their special plans._

_After Daddy left, Scorpius bounced up to his parents' room and sat on their large, plush bed. He wanted Mummy dress and make herself pretty, taking note in every single stroke of a brush or line with a pen. He truly thought she was beautiful and was in awe of the process. It was like she was creating art upon her own skin. Transforming herself into a gallery-worth piece to be worshipped._

_As they walked the streets of London, men and women took notice of Mummy's hard work. They stared and smiled and tried to talk to her. Mostly men... Mummy said she was beautiful and it was nice for people to tell her. She said he would understand when he was old enough to be beautiful. They were compliments and he stored that away for the hopeful future._

_As they walked into the store that day, one of Scorpius' favorites with the armchairs that made him feel like a king, he was informed that what Mummy chose today was going to special. She needed a new dress for Daddy's birthday dinner the next week. She needed to take people's breath away and look like a goddess. He nodded and set his eyes to the gowns on the left side of the building. Together they browsed and found a new options. And once Mummy was ready, she set him in front of the dressing rooms in those chairs he loved so much._

_She went into her usual room to change and Scorpius sat patiently to wait._

" _That chair looks awfully big for such a young thing."_

_Frowning at what he perceived as an insult, Scorpius turned. The man that stood beside his chair was not a store employee. Scorpius knew all of the employees. They brought him water and mints and made sure the 'little prince' was comfortable while he waited for his mummy to be ready. They dressed in suits and used 'ma'am' and 'sir' to address them – as they should._

_No, this man was not an employee. Not with his stained tie and his cheap suit. Scorpius wrinkled his nose, looking back towards the dressing room doors. "This chair fits me_ justfine _," he said, an incredible amount of venom in his voice for his size. This man was dirty and he was beneath him if he insisted upon insults. Pretending the man wasn't there, Scorpius flipped his platinum curls from his eyes and absently petted the stuffed fox in his lap._

 _When the man chuckled, the sound of it came across as harsh. Like a heavy piece of furniture dropping harshly upon brand new wood flooring. It was rough and it didn't fit in here. "Oh, you look wonderful upon it, little one. You look_ beautiful _. Mature."_

_Scorpius recalled his mother telling him about the day he would be old enough to be beautiful. He was fairly certain that this was not the day she had been talking about. He was still young, after all. The boy shifted uncomfortably in his chair, looking around them. There was not a single employee in sight. Typically, there was only one around on Friday mornings, so this didn't surprise him. But he would have liked the security of seeing someone he knew._

_As nerves danced upon Scorpius' skin, causing the little hairs of is arms to stand up, he contemplated calling out for his mummy. But his pride held him back, telling him that he was just overreacting. Like that time a woman took a picture of him without asking his permission. His angry fit in response had been scolded and remedied with promises from his mummy that the woman must have thought he was important. Sure enough, there had been an article in one of her magazines a week later about Pureblood heirs, featuring that picture of him._

_He decided that maybe this was one of those times. "Do you work for a magazine?" Scorpius asked softly, not looking back over at the man. He was trying to demand respect in the same way he'd seem Mummy and Daddy do all his life._

_It took the man a moment to answer. He shifted his feet and the boy saw him looking around from the corner of his eye. He looked excited about something. "Uh…yeah. Yeah, I am," he answered, taking a rather large step towards Scorpius. He knelt down beside the boy's chair, giving him a smile that reminded Scorpius of a toothy lion. "And I would like to write about you, little one. Would you like to come with me so I can do that? So that I can interview you?"_

_Scorpius was sure he shouldn't. Mummy always told him to stay_ right here _. If he left, she might get mad. But if he was going to be in another magazine…wouldn't that make her happy? He bit his lip in contemplation, clutching the fox tighter to his chest. He felt like it could calm his breaths and maybe give him courage. "I have to be back before Mummy comes out." He squinted up at a clock on the wall and nodded. "One circle minute."_

" _One circle minute it is, then." The man straightened, holding his hand out towards Scorpius. After setting the fox on his chair to 'save his seat', he took the hand and gave a shaky smile. All he could think about as they walked quickly from the shop was that the man's hand was rough. He had left Mummy's purse by the chair and considered offering the man some lotion from it when they got back._

_But the further they walked away from the shop, the more hope he lost in getting that chance…._

~*~

From the moment Astoria stepped into the DMLE, the Malfoys and their tragedy were destined to become a dusty case file. Before he could even pry a single detail from his wife, this thought took up settlement in Draco's bones. It terrified him and hardened his walk. It made him a sharp, bitter man who wasn't willing to cooperate. Kindness would get them nowhere, anyway.

"When did you notice his absence, then?"

Draco's eyes cut deep mental gashes into the incompetent Auror that had been assigned to his case. It was one of the newer recruits, Doren – only having been there nine months. And in those nine months, he had not resolved a single one of his assigned cases. He was sure this kid being put on the case of  _his_  son was intentional.

Astoria swallowed harshly beside Draco. He looked down at her, disgusted at the wet and tormented sound of it. It was the exact sound you would think a person who had lost the thing that meant the most in the world to them would make when trying to remain composed. Like holding back tears and bile and screams was eating her from the inside out. "I…. When I came out of the dressing room. Um…. He wasn't sitting where I left him."

Doren jotted something down in the file before him, shifting in his metal chair in their sealed-off, grey interrogation room at their metal table. "Right. And did you check the store to see if was just wandering around?"

"Are you fucking serious?" It seemed Astoria's patience was wavering. They had been sitting here for over an hour, just  _waiting_  for this guy. And now he was asking stupid questions when he should be sending people out there to look for her son. She had told him as much the instant he had walked into the room, but he insisted that these questions were necessary. "Of  _course_  I checked! It wasn't like I just ran out of there screaming! I called for him until I was hoarse! I looked for him under  _every_  rack of clothing and in  _every_  nook and cranny. My son,  _officer_ , doesn't just run off and not tell his mother where he is going. I have raised him with more manners than that."

"Of course, ma'am," Doren sighed, writing another few words in the file. "And did you speak with the employees at this store? Just to check?"

Draco was losing his own stone-cold patience. He stood angrily from his chair, palms flat upon the table as he leaned forward into the other man's face. "I believe…my wife has already answered that question. She. Checked.  _Everywhere_." His usual colorless skin was a vivid red and the cold of the table scalded his heated skin. "Our son is  _missing_. Do something about it!"

The words hit the Auror like sharp flecks of ice, but he acted like they were nothing but feather-soft scoldings. "I am merely doing my job, Malfoy. Sit back down, please."

In that moment, Astoria looked over at her husband in a way that he had hoped she never would. She viewed him as helpless and pitiful. He was exuding all of his rage over the issue and…it did nothing. He was able to produce  _zero_  change in the problem at hand. Draco was supposed to be the savior and protector of his family. He had made so many mistakes in the past. Did so many things that plagued his nightmares when he let his guard down…. But after all of that, he was a different man than he had hoped to grow into as a boy. He was a father that  _cared_  and a husband that  _tried_. He loved his family and would do anything for them!

And yet…in that moment he was crushed by the weight of that look that told him he would never be able to do that. He had screwed up somewhere along the way and his son had been ripped from his arms. If he never saw that beautiful boy again (a near-perfect production of his genes), that guilt would stay upon his shoulders for the rest of his life because… _some part of this hand to have been his fault_.

His hands curling into fists so tight the nails bit crescents into his palms, Draco took his seat. He refused to look up or over. Refused to do anything but glare at the scratched surface of the metal table, stewing in his rage and humiliation.

"Can either of you think of anyone who might have wanted to hurt the boy? Or your family? Or someone who…would have a grudge against you? Someone who might demand a ransom?"

The questions were endless and pointless. No one was out there doing anything about the situation at hand. They were just…asking questions. The same ones, phrased over and over again in colorful ways. Hours passed and things were progressing nowhere.

When Doren finally said they could leave (without as much as a promise to try their best to find Scorpius), Draco had moved past frustration or anger. He was  _tired_. Tired and fed up with the way his son's disappearance was being handled. He sighed heavily, his chair piercing the air of the room with a splitting shriek that matched his soul as he pushed it away from the table when he stood. He walked to the door without saying anything to the Auror and without waiting to see if his wife might be following. He just didn't  _care_  anymore. Not with that weary determination lingering within him.

"Dray…." He nodded towards the woman to show he was listening as they let their heavy feet guide them out of the Ministry. They took the long way back to the apartment, knowing that they were in no state of mind to be apparating. The fresh air was also helping to keep them grounded. "Please tell me what you're thinking…."

She was pleading with him. Draco scoffed, not exactly feeling in a sharing mood. His thoughts were thankfully private. If they weren't, everyone within a mile radius would know the exact curses he was planning to use when he found whoever was at fault for their child missing. He stayed silent, not trusting his words in that moment and continued on the way home.

Astoria didn't ask again. Not even when they walked through the door and Draco made a beeline for the photo albums by the coffee table. He flipped through them, trying not to choke on the tears the pictures brought to his throat. As soon as he found a non-moving picture that looked recent enough, he tore it away from its placeholder and headed back towards the door.

"I'm going to look for our son," he grumbled as he forcefully turned the door handle. "Since nobody else will…."

"Good luck…." Her tone told him she had already lost hope. Scorpius was already lost to her, even if she wasn't going to speak it out loud. He knew her and knew the way she sounded when she was trying to hide grief. They had recovered from the tragedies of the war together, after all.

Draco knew that to Astoria, Scorpius was already dead and gone. And this only fueled the vicious, vengeful fire inside of him further.

~*~

" _This is too far," Scorpius whispered again. He'd said it a total of fifteen times (he'd counted) to the man. He was sure the man had heard him, he had shouted it a few of the times. But he wasn't listening…. He just kept walking, his hand crushingly tight around the boy's frail wrist._

_Several thoughts competed for Scorpius' attention as they walked. He told himself to scream and shout at this man. But he didn't because all he could hear to combat his mind was his mother telling him constantly as a toddler to 'not cause a scene'. He told himself that this was a bad idea and that this man was lying to him. But what if he was wrong and he ruined Mummy's chance to get her son in a magazine again? He told himself that Mummy was probably scared and looking for him by now. But he had no perception of time and rationalized that she was probably still admiring herself in the dressing room mirror._

_Most importantly, however, he told himself that it was stupid to leave his fox behind. His fingers itched to feel the comfort of the soft fur to make him feel better. To make him feel at home no matter where he was or what situation was at hand._

_Scorpius was so scared…._

_There was no way of telling how long they walked. There was no way of knowing where they were when they finally stopped. All Scorpius knew was that they were a long way from where he should be and he was terrified. His little heart beat so hard he was afraid it would explode as they stopped in front of the small house. He looked up at it, but his sight was quickly obscured as he was lifted up into the arms of the man._

_It was then that he lost his calm composure. He was always a mild-mannered child. Anything less would have resulted in dishonor to the name he was to carry proudly. But he was a boy, after all, and he was starting to worry over the decision he had made to follow this man. He kicked out as he was mangled into a manageable position against the man's chest. His mouth was covered, but he did his best to scream through the calloused fingers._

_The effort was fruitless and made too late. Scorpius could feel himself being carried towards the house. He was aware somewhere in the back of his mind that they had been walking so long that they were no longer in a busy part of the city. The little house looked nothing like the expensive shops Mummy spent her time in. It had been rough and unkempt on the outside, the yellow paint chipping off and the yard overgrown with weeds._

_The inside was somehow worse than the outside led it to be. The first thing Scorpius noticed was the smell. It was so horrid he found himself gabbing upon the first breath of oxygen he was allowed once his mouth was released. Whatever the stench was, it cut the scream right out of his throat and sent him into a coughing fit. He squirmed in the man's arms, desperate to get back outside and get a breath of fresh air. The man cinched his hold tighter and walked further into the house._

_As they walked through the house, Scorpius desperately craned his neck to get a good look of where he was. The smell of the place to be coming from_ everywhere _. Stacks of dingy clothes, food gone bad, dirty dishes, the sound of scuttling animals – Scorpius never knew someone could live in such filth._

_His own home was cleaned regularly by a small house elf who split her time between their penthouse and Malfoy Manor. The elf was sweet and she was great at her job. She even let Scorpius help pick up his toys when Mummy was in another room. He loved to help the little creature with her chores._

_This man needed a sweet, little house elf._

_The decay and disarray wasn't a problem for too long. In the matter of a few seconds, they had crossed through most of the house and ended up in front of a door. Curious and too scared to ask questions, Scorpius watched the man open the door. Beyond was a set of stairs that led up into a dark space. A moment later, he felt his feet touch the floor. He contemplated running in that moment, but the man towering above him was sure to catch him._

" _Get on up," the man grunted, nodding up the stairs._

" _It's dark," Scorpius said in his smallest voice. He didn't like the dark. At home, he slept with ball of glowing blue smoke fabricated by his daddy sitting on the nightstand right next to him. "Can you do a glowy ball?" he asked softly, rubbing at his tired eyes._

_The ordeal had wiped him out. They had walked for so long that his legs were starting to feel like gelatin. His stomach felt like something was clawing at it, telling him it was far past lunchtime._

" _Get_ up _." The man's command was harsher and this time accompanied by a rough shove. Scorpius stumbled forward and fell onto the bottom step. He had no chance to even right himself before the door slammed shut behind him. Everything was black. He could only see pinpricks of light that never was, tricking him into thinking there was something or someone else with him on those stairs._

_But there was no one else. After trying to turn the doorknob in vain, Scorpius ascended the stairs on his hands and knees. He found they opened up onto another level, the rough wood flooring scraping at his delicate knees as he crawled. In a far corner, further from the stair landing than he would have liked, was a sliver of light. He shuffled quickly towards it, wincing at the slivers that wedged beneath his pale skin._

_Once he reached the light, the boy finally stood. His hands felt up the rough walls until they reached the little sliver of yellow. It was so little that he could cover it with his tiny hand. For the first time since being led out of the shop, Scorpius felt tears come to his eyes._

_The slice of light was too small. Surrounding it felt too solid to expose more. Tears slipped down his face and he collapsed into a pitiful pile on the floor. Dust and dirt clung to him, staining his hair and his skin that were so light they could soak up even the most minimal pollution. His thin arms circled around his knees, bringing them up to his chest that shook harsher than he'd ever experienced._

_He cried for his lost freedom. He cried for the reckless decision he had made. He cried for his mummy and all of the worry he must be causing her. But, most of all, he cried for his daddy and prayed that he could be there to make that relieving ball of light to make this situation somehow better._

~*~

Draco must have talked to hundreds of people over the next few days. He showed Scorpius' picture to anyone who would stop in London. And every single time he received a solemn shake of the head.

No. No one – not a  _single soul_  – had seen his boy.

He checked and rechecked to make sure he was showing a recent enough picture. It had been taken a few months prior at Easter with Astoria's family. He was the only one of the three children in the picture that was fair-skinned and had hair as white as his father's. Sure, in that picture his curls were pulled up into a ponytail as they had been bugging him that day. But he still looked like him, Draco was  _sure_. None of the other pictures he had would do the boy justice. Not that he had all that many….

In those hours spent pounding the pavement, Draco vowed that when they found Scorpius, they would take more pictures as a family. He would never be found without a camera at his side so he could catch all of those little moments he was struggling to remember.

Draco didn't go to work. He wasn't even sure when the last time he had been there had been. It felt wrong walking into his office and doing paperwork like nothing had happened. It felt like he was losing a bit of his hope to go back. Astoria didn't understand it. She urged him every morning to put on his robes and go into the office. She insisted that going back would be good. It would help him get back to normal.

But Draco didn't want  _normal_. All he wanted was for his son to return home safe. He wasn't going to rest or go about his life until that happened.

Day by day, those chances slimmed. It had been two weeks with no word from the Aurors. Two weeks without a whisper as to whether there was any progress made in the case. But Draco didn't ask them, either. If they found something, they would come to him. He was  _sure_  of it. Besides, he was entirely too busy with his own investigation.

"It's practically impossible that  _no one_  saw Scorpius leaving the shop. Not the employees or…or anyone at the café across the street. Or you! I mean, you weren't gone that long! How could someone have just walked off with him without you knowing it?!"

Draco was on another one of his nighttime rants. When the streets got too dark and his feet too tired, he always headed home to puzzle. He would sit on the edge of the bed as Astoria flipped through her trash magazines and just go over and over what few details he had. And most often he would end up yelling. Just like in that moment.

With a sigh, Astoria flipped a page with all of the sass her trim self could muster. "Dray, please…. For one night, could you  _please_ …chill? Calm down? Relax?!" She slammed the magazine down upon the comforter and looked her husband over.

In those two weeks, Draco had transformed into someone she nearly didn't recognize. He shaved, but only enough to keep his facial hair from absolutely taking over. These days, always had scruff upon his chin that gave his soft face an unkempt look. His hair was never managed as he was always running his fingers through it in frustration. There were bags under his eyes, his clothes were unpressed, and he stunk of panic sweat. He was a wreck.

Standing abruptly, Draco threw his hands up in the air. " _Relax_?!" he mimicked, eyes incredulous. "How the  _Hell_  am I supposed to relax knowing that by now my son is either  _dead_  or in the hands of someone  _disgusting_?!" He thrust his fingers through his hair for the hundredth time that day and shook his head viciously back and forth. "No…. No, I can't just relax, 'Toria. And I can't for the life of me understand how you  _can_."

"Trust the Ministry to do their job, Draco," Astoria spat, his full name a curse upon her tongue. "Stop running around like a goddamn idiot. It's not like you're getting anywhere."

With those words of finality, she turned away from her husband and curled up under the blankets. It was the sign when they were fighting that let him know she was done. Her last word had been law and she was going to sleep.

As much as it pained Draco to admit it, Astoria had a point. He was getting nowhere…. In two weeks, he had a Hell of a lot of 'no's and a handful of 'oh, what a sweet boy; shame he's missing's. He had no leads and not even a single whisper of if his son was even still alive.

But there was no way he could trust the Ministry. Not after the complete silence they had given him in the time since they had reported Scorpius missing. He couldn't trust them – but he definitely felt like this was something he should be able to change.

The next morning, Draco headed to the Ministry. He was in street clothes instead of his robes as he headed down to the second level. He wasn't going into the DMLE to work that morning – he wasn't sure he could ever do that again. Instead, he was going in with the sole purpose of making waves. Of creating a fuss and  _forcing_  something to happen.

"Mr. Malfoy, we have no leads on your son's case." They were the first words he heard as he strode into the Auror office. It spoke volumes of how they all had been expecting him to come in any day now and demand answers. He sneered at Doren, passing by his desk without as much as a word in response.

That petty man wasn't even in his line of sight that morning. He was small time and hounding him would result in nothing. Wand out at his side and ready to defend himself, Draco instead made his way towards the back of the department. A few doors down from his own office was a door. It was closed and a shiny, specialized plaque on the door left no questions as to who was most important in this division. He pushed the door open with a vengeance, angry green sparks flying from the tip of his wand at the shouts the receptionist outside made for him to stop.

"Potter! I need to speak with you  _right now_. It's urgent."

Harry Potter was the golden boy of their world. And once he joined the Auror rankings (after being passed through the training without a thought or struggle in record time), he had been made a lead officer. He had his own office without having worked a single day on the job and his very presence commanded devotion from those now beneath him. He may not be the head of the department, but he was as good as. Especially since the current head was one of his best mates.

"Uh…." To say that Potter looked dumbstruck would be putting things mildly. He was sitting behind his desk, a stack rivalling Draco's usual Friday paperwork nearly concealing him from view. He stood, getting a better look at the wild man in his doorway. "I'm…a little busy, Malfoy. Doing  _your_  job, actually."

His job? How had the great and powerful Harry Bloody Potter been stuck with Draco Malfoy's paperwork? Faltering slightly, Draco clenched the wand at his side. "I…," he started, his voice soft and shaky. "I need your help…." It was less of a demand than he had planned, but he still tried to get some of his authority behind it.

Potter sighed heavily, leaning back on his desk and raising one hand to lift his glasses and the other to massage at the bridge of his nose. "That is Doren's case, Malfoy. You know that. If you have any questions or concerns regarding how he is handling it…you need to speak with him. Or with Hermione."

Of course Potter wouldn't help him. He was a  _Malfoy_. Since the war, that name had been slandered and drug through the mud. They were nothing but the dirty family that had helped the Dark Lord. Both the father and the son carried that filthy Mark and the mother was only happy to help. They were the family that got off Scott-free because they had repented. They were the cowards who had never made reparations for the terrible things they had done.

Draco had heard all of these things too many times over the years. They were the whispers that had hindered his entrance into the Auror Training Program. The lies that landed him a terrible job in the furthest corner of the department he was so desperate to be a part of. The disgusting rumors that followed his family wherever he went and kept them from being respected in either the Pureblood or normal wizarding communities. His name was what would keep his son from one day having everything he deserved.

And it was his scorned name that was keeping his son from being found.

"No," Draco snapped. He stepped up to the other man, raising his wand once in a soft warning. " _You_ , Potter, are the one with weight in this office. Everyone knows it. Merlin knows I have worked here long enough to see that favoritism unfold. Which is why I have come to  _you_. Because if there is any hope left for my son, it lies within your hands."

The stone-cold, uninterested look Potter gave spoke volumes of his disinterest. He had vouched for the Malfoys after the war, but that didn't necessarily mean he cared. Which meant that Draco was going to have to pull a guilt trip.

"Look...you have a son Scorpius' age, right?" The other man raised a brow, showing his uncertainty. He didn't know how old Draco's son was. "Albus. Albus is five,  _just_ like my Scorpius." This must have caught the man's interest. He straightened slightly and nodded in the affirmative.

It was a good sign. "Okay, so...imagine if this was your son. If your Albus went missing... _everyone_  would be scrambling to find him. You wouldn't have to wait two weeks without a word because it wouldn't take that long. Your fame would work in your favor.

"Just as my infamy is working against me." Draco's voice broke with emotion and he took a second to breathe. "Look...," he continued, "that little boy is not me. He is completely innocent to everything I may have done in the past. So...I am asking- No,  _begging_ you to help me find him. He's likely alone and scared, wherever he is. And...and I need him to come home. Soon.  _Now_."

Never in a million years would Draco have considered groveling at Harry Potter's feet. But this was no ordinary circumstance. This was something he could have never prepared himself for. So, yes, he was begging and pleading with a man he felt was way over-valued in their world. Because if it worked, he found that he just didn't care what it took.

~*~

_That first night, Scorpius didn't see the man again. He didn't see anything at all except for the dark. After only a little while in his new prison, the sliver of light began to fade out faster than he'd hoped. He cried louder then, feeling the weight of his fear harder than he had ever expected._

_He hoped the man could hear his sobs in the night. He hoped when he heard them, they made his heart ache just as bad as Scorpius' did. He hoped that any second, he would come up to wherever the little boy was being kept and apologized. Set him free. Let him go home to his daddy and his mummy._

_But all of these hopes were fruitless. After a fitful half-night of sleep, not a single thing about Scorpius' situation changed. He was still locked away at the top of those stairs in a dark room. He was still unsure of where he was or what surrounded him, and his belly ached far worse than he could ever recall. Oh, and he really had to take a wee. He wasn't even sure if there was a bathroom up here. And, in the end, he just couldn't hold his little bladder anymore._

_In the end, he was left a hungry, tired, sore mess in soaked clothing. He was a disgrace to his name._

_As much as he had prayed for it, when Scorpius heard the door at the bottom of the stairs open, he found himself backing himself against a wall. He had no idea what he was in for when the man came back. He was dirty and had soiled himself. What would the man think of him? Would he be angry?_

" _Little one, come here."_

_The command was given by a glowing circle of light. Despite himself, Scorpius gasped in excitement and crawled upon the rough floor towards the light source. When he reached it, he found it to be the man holding a flashlight near the top of the stairs. Scorpius stopped a few feet away, biting his lip._

" _Come_ here _."_

_The command hit Scorpius like a bag of bricks. It knocked the air out of him with its threatening weight. Cautiously, he closed the distance between them and hung his head._

" _You stink. Did you piss yourself, little one?" Ashamed of himself, Scorpius nodded. There was no hiding it. "Here." He tossed something upon the floor, a backpack that landed in front of Scorpius with a dull thud. "Change your clothes. Clean yourself up. Eat. I will be back to check on you later. I have to go to work. And if you're a good little boy…when I come home, you'll get a treat. Got it?"_

_Again, Scorpius nodded and closed his little fingers around a strap of the backpack. Without another word, the man turned away and took the light with him. The boy whimpered, reaching after the glow. "I can't see," he whined, unsure of how he was supposed to do all of those things without light._

_The man sighed and Scorpius was sure he'd done something wrong. That he was about to be punished. He flinched back into a wall, dragging the backpack with him. But all the man did in response was leave, slamming the door shut behind him._

_Scorpius was once again in the dark. His bottom lip threatened to wobble, but he was too exhausted to cry any longer. So he swallowed the emotion and turned his attention to fumbling in the dark with the backpack. With only minimal struggle, he was able to get it unzipped and began rifling around inside. The first thing his fingers touched felt hard and metallic and cool to the touch. The revelation of what it must be was almost too exciting for Scorpius to contain himself. He hurried to find the button and was soon surrounded by a circle of his very own light._

_His joy was too much to hold in. He giggled happily and hugged the flashlight to his chest. After he had discovered the light source, Scorpius wasted no time in unpacking the rest of the bag. But every item he pulled out only served to baffle him more and more. Beneath the flashlight was a set of clothes. But, they weren't clothes like the boy had expected. He examined each frilly, girly dress with more distaste than the last._

_Since he could remember, people had told Scorpius he looked just like a doll. Not like a plastic baby doll, but like the type made from porcelain. The ones with their hair in perfect ringlets and their pale cheeks painted rosy pink. The dolls that wore dresses made of fine fabrics and always looked obedient and proper. With his blonde curls and delicate skin, he could see where people were coming from._

_But no one had ever tried to make him into one of those dolls._

_None of the clothes in the bag were designed for little boys. They were just these expensive, silky dresses in several pastel colors. He had also been provided with a pair of shiny Mary Jane's, a few hair bows, and a couple pairs of girly undies._

_Did the man not know that Scorpius was a boy?_

_He bit his lip, torn between comfort and honor. Dressing up in girls' clothes would have been something he was sure his daddy would cringe at. He was very proud of his child being a_ boy _. He was afraid of what Daddy would do if he ever saw him dressing up in such feminine things._

_Daddy wasn't here, however. Scorpius didn't know where Daddy was and he was currently sitting in soiled, expensive clothing. In the end, he decided that it was more important to clean up. Tucked in with the clothing had been a package of wet wipes. They were chilly to his skin and he cried as he used them to wipe the dirt and the stench from his skin. He then pulled on the powder blue dress, forced his slightly too big feet into the shoes, and forced himself to be comfortable with the pink panties._

_Scorpius' next goal was to calm his aching belly and parched lips. Beneath the dresses he found exactly one bottle of water and a neatly wrapped slice of cake. No fruit, no vegetables, no substance. Just one dessert. But in that moment he wasn't going to question it. He was too hungry. He downed the food quickly and drank a good portion of the water. It didn't quite fill him up, but it would do for now. Hopefully the man would bring him dinner later._

_With the necessities out of the way, Scorpius finally felt comfortable enough to really look over where he was being kept. He took his flashlight, held tightly to his body with both hands, and stood. As he turned around in a circle, the beam showed him a much smaller area than he had anticipated._

_The small room was completely made out of wood. The flooring, the exposed beams of the walls, and the steeped ceiling. Even the windows were boarded over with planks, which was why his single sliver of light had been so small._

_There wasn't much else to look at in the room. In a back corner, not actually all that far from where Scorpius had slept, was a simple bed adorned with a set of white, frilly sheets. Again, it was much more feminine than the boy cared for. But it was a bed and that was preferable over the scratchy floor. He walked over, the shoes pinching at his toes and causing him to wince with every step. Once he reached the bed, he wasted no time in climbing upon it and lying back upon the lumpy mattress. It was less than comfortable, but it might not be so hard to get used to._

_With a sigh, Scorpius laid back upon the one, flat pillow. He stared up at the ceiling. The dress and panties itched against his skin, but he felt too weak to do much about it. The crying and lack of food had taken any ounce of strength he'd had._

_Slowly, his eyes closed and it didn't take long for him to fall asleep. He curled up into a ball atop the covers, looking every bit the injured child he was. As he slept, he dreamt of home. Of honey and banana sandwiches cut down the middle and nighttime stories. Of the way Mummy would kiss his cheek and leave a red print of her lips. Of the way Daddy would give him a hug that made him feel every single bit of his love._

_But when he awoke, none of those things were there with him in that room. He was once again consumed by darkness and the switch on his flashlight refused to do its job. Scorpius could hear footsteps on those stairs again and was terrified of what that would bring._

_Rubbing sleep from his eyes, he sat up in the bed. His platinum curls were ratted to the back of his head and he had rumpled the dress he wore. And, to make matters more humiliating, he had to take a wee again and still had no idea where to do it. He was certain that soiling his clothes again would only make the man angry._

_"Ah, there you are, little one." The same beam of light from before landed upon Scorpius. He squinted his eyes at it, putting a hand up to cover the bright spot. "And you dressed yourself. Wonderful." A weight settled at the foot of the bed, causing Scorpius to scuttle backwards. "Oh, there's no need to be scared... Come here. I have something for you for being a good boy."_

_Biting his lip, the boy stayed where he was. He didn't trust this man, no matter what he said. "I... I have to wee-wee," he said softly, curling his arms around his knees._

_Clearing his throat, the man stood back up and retreated. Scorpius whined, sure he was going to leave again. It both terrified and excited him. But he didn't leave. He merely walked across the room and returned with a bucket in hand. "You can piss in here."_

_A bucket was hardly the most dignified place to take a wee. But Scorpius supposed...that if he had to..._

_With his back to the man, Scorpius quickly relieved himself. Once he had the pink panties again secured around his hips, he turned back and waited for further instruction._

_"Sit on the bed." Scorpius scrambled back up onto the sheets, resuming his curled up state at the pillows. "Good." In the small beam of the man's flashlight set in front of Scorpius, he could see something being placed in front of him. A sandwich. "Eat."_

_The boy didn't need to be told twice. He reached for the food quickly, taking a hasty bite. The bread was dry, the meat was salty, and there was a bitter taste he couldn't identify. But it was substance and he wasn't about to complain. Not when he was sure he would lose the food the moment he did._

_"Now...I have a few rules for you, little one. Are you listening?" Scorpius nodded hesitantly to the man's question. "Good. First, you need to listen and follow every instruction you are given. But I'm sure you'll do that just fine, given how you've been so far." Scorpius could feel the man's eyes on his dress and bit back a wave of sickness. He didn't like that look._

_"Second, you keep yourself clean. You have three dresses and three pairs of underwear. You will change every two days. On the seventh day, you will give me all of your clothes and I will wash them._

_"And, third...you will call me Daddy."_

_"But I already have a daddy," Scorpius protested without thinking over the consequences. He finished the last bite of his sandwich just before he felt the slap across his cheek. Immediately, tears spring to the boy's eyes and his bottom lip wobbled._

_"_ I _am your daddy now._ This _is your home. Do. You. Understand?" The man's voice was strong and commanding. It said that any protests given would be met with more violence._

_Scorpius was helpless to argue._

_He slowly bobbed his head up and down, his cheek fiery hot under his cradled palm. "Yes, Daddy..."_

~*~

"Where are you on the Malfoy case?" Potter's voice commanded respect as he stopped in front of Doren's desk. He leaned down upon it, his palms flat against the wood as he leaned in for an answer.

The man sat up quickly, setting aside the newspaper he had been engrossed in a moment before. Acting innocent and attentive for the other. "Uh..." Leaning to the side in his chair, he craned his neck to get a good look at Draco standing behind Potter. His arms crossed and his expression surly. He was less than impressed. "Here...," he muttered, rifling around in a drawer before pulling out a file.

With a sigh, Potter snatched it up and flipped it open. "So... You've talked to the employees of the shop. And...you had your interview with the parents." He shifted a few papers around, but ended up with a deep frown. "What else?"

"That... That's it, sir," Doren said softly. His jaw was slack and he looked absolutely dumbfounded. The exact thing Draco had suspected had occurred with his son's case - it had been abandoned. "I've had other cases…."

"A child is  _missing_ , Doren," Potter scolded and threw the folder back down on the desk. "You better make damn sure it's your top priority from now on. Grab a couple others and get working.  _Now_."

The authority in the man's voice could command a room full of dementors, Draco was convinced. He felt warm in the cheeks just standing by not heeding the call to action. He hadn't said many words, but what he had said was definitely meant to be taken seriously. He was Bloody Harry Potter – the goddamn Chosen One – after all. Anyone who went against his command was bound to fail.

"Thank you," Draco said almost meekly, biting back a grateful smile at the gesture. He hadn't expected the Auror to help him so readily. He had imagined it would be more like pulling teeth, considering their differences. Considering Potter's fame. Considering Draco's past…. "It does mean a great deal to me and my family."

The only response Potter gave in return was to wave Draco towards the lift. Draco slipped his jacket on, nodding obediently. He was assuming the Auror wanted him out of the office. He had begged for his favor and now it was time to get out of his hair. "Yeah, I'm leaving," he sighed, his eyes trained on his fingers as he did up the buttons so he didn't have to meet the other's eyes.

However, unlike he expected, when they reached the lift, Potter followed Draco in without hesitation. He looked up at the slightly taller man –  _when had that happened?_  – with a questioning eyebrow raise. "I'm buying you a drink," Potter said nonchalantly. Like it was the least absurd thing he had said in years.

The entire ride and walk down the street to some run-down pub, Draco chewed those words over and over. He tried to see the intentions and attempted to interpret the sure gait the man walked with. But no matter how deeply he rationalized it, there really was no explaining the offer. Not in his mind, anyway. Not after their history together.

"Just a bottle of scotch," Potter muttered to the overly-hairy barkeep before taking a seat at a secluded booth. Draco followed cautiously, hating the way this man made him feel. He supposed that he fell in line with the rest of the world's thinking since growing older. As much as he wanted to hate the man before him, he couldn't because of all the good he had brought into this world. It might have all been about perfect timing and lucky guesses, but he had brought their world out of darkness. He had saved lives and remedied wrongdoings. He had brought the evil back down from power.

Despite the loyalty his family had towards the losing side, he couldn't honestly say he wasn't relieved with the outcome.

"So…what's this all about?" Draco asked with perhaps too much of a venomous bite to his skeptical tone.

Potter merely chuckled, quietly thanking the barkeep as he set two tumblers and a bottle of dark liquid down in front of him. "Sit," he said softly, his voice absolutely devoid of emotion. He had no tells, Draco realized. There was no quivering waver to his solid expression to reveal his inner thoughts. When had he become this stone-cold man who demanded authority and exuded importance? And why was Draco equally intrigued and demeaned by it?

The flop of his body showing his resignation, Draco folded himself into the booth. Potter wasted no time in pouring them both rather full glasses of the amber liquid and Draco wasted no time in accepting it. The burn of the alcohol felt foreign upon his throat (he was usually a glass of champagne or fine wine here and there type of drinker), but it wasn't an unwelcome sensation. The sting matched the ache in his heart and gave him an 'acceptable' reason to feel tears pricking at the corners of his eyes.

"How is your family holding up?" Potter asked, breaking the silence between them after Draco slid his glass over for a refill. His eyes were heavy with abandon and the true wear on his soul was beginning to seep through. He could feel it, and yet he couldn't bring himself to care. Why hold it in?

Letting a breath of air he hadn't been aware he'd holding back out heavily through his nose, Draco moved his shoulders in a poor attempt at a shrug. He practically breathed in another gulp of the scotch before giving his quiet answer. "My…. My parents blame my wife for not caring enough to keep Scorpius safe and urge me relentlessly to keep the press uninvolved. Her parents…bad-mouth the poor and deranged and beg me to take this whole ordeal public." He raked his fingers through his hair for perhaps the hundredth time in a twenty-four hour period while pursing his lips in order to hold bile back. "Needless to say, I'm trusting my father's word on this, per usual. He understands the stigma attached to our name better than that privileged, pompous Greengrass snob ever could."

"So they are…angry?" Potter ventured to guess. In answer, Draco gave a derisive snort and raised a brow. He didn't feel there was much else to say because the other man had hit it square on the nose. Both sets of grandparents were furious. They were appalled that their children could allow such a thing to happen. That Draco and Astoria had lost both family's prized male heir. Daphne, Astoria's sister, couldn't have children. She would never produce a child to carry on the bloodlines.

Scorpius had been it.

Sighing in something that genuinely sounded like sympathy, Potter sipped from his own glass. He was taking his drink slower, pacing himself where Draco was indulging in order to numb the pain. "And your wife? How is she holding up?"

The alcohol was beginning to warm Draco's heart. He was thinking less of why the other man might want to know all of this. He didn't care anymore. His carefully constructed walls were tumbling down and he was allowing himself to  _vent_. This was the first person who had truly cared enough to ask how they were all handling this messy situation they were in. And Draco was pretty damn sure that the Auror across from him meant every single drop of care he was exerting. He was pretty damn sure that the man cared and understood on a level most wouldn't even try to.

"Astoria is…. Well, she…." Draco huffed, examining the contents of his glass in a dusty beam of sunlight. Searching for the appropriate words at the bottom of the liquid. "Astoria handles grief a little differently than I would think is appropriate." The admission was heavy on his tongue, but he was tired of holding it in. It was eating him up inside to stand by and watch the way she was acting. "She has already written Scorpius off as gone. Lost. Unattainable. Dead." He choked on a sob and quickly cleared his throat. "She acts as if she's already buried him and is moving on. She doesn't understand my need to be out there dawn to dusk, searching for any whisper of where he might be. She can laugh and act  _normal_... I envy it, I do. I wish I could not care this much. But he is my boy. My one and only son. The only one I will ever have…. She had trouble conceiving – I'm sure there's something wrong with her genetics – and Scorpius was a miracle, really. If I lose him, if he's truly gone…. Well, there went my only chance at being a father.

"And I don't want to sit around like her and say in the end that I did nothing to salvage the life that boy could still have. I can't pretend like he doesn't still matter more to be in this world than anything else."

Across from Draco, Potter sat quiet. He sat attentive and  _listened_. He was everything that Draco needed in that moment and everything he knew he didn't deserve. Everyone he met told him just that. In the tragedy that struck his family, he knew he didn't deserve sympathy or tears shed on his behalf. No one should want to show him any kindness. What his family had done – what  _he_  had done – during the war couldn't be easily forgotten. And he was sure there were people saying that Scorpius going missing was just what he deserved. It was a taste of what his side of the war had given out. It was just a small dose of the pain he and people like him had inflicted upon the innocents.

Scorpius was the price he had to pay for his freedom in a world he didn't belong in.

As if reading Draco's thoughts, Potter offered a soft smile. He reached across the table, his expression holding no resentment or blame, and placed his warm palm upon the chilly back of Draco's hand. "Your boy is a child. I can see you blaming yourself for what is happening. I can see you rationalizing it and trying to let go as many people will tell you to. But…you need to keep your faith. Your wife, your family, your in-laws may not understand. They will urge you to move on and reinvent your life." He hitched a shoulder as if that was a solid fact. It probably was. "But the instant you give up on that boy…is the instant you become the man you have tried to forget these past few years."

The entire reason Draco had gone through Auror training was to try and remedy his past. He had washed out, his instructors having no faith or desire for him. He had tried, though. He had tried with everything he had to get through that program. And when he did eventually give up on it, knowing there was no way they would let him finish, it was one of the worst days of his life.

He had taken that pain, however, and turned it into a fiery passion. It was the reason he had gone after the job he did in the Ministry. He was in the same department as the Aurors. He wasn't one of them, but he at least got to grovel at their feet and show the world that he felt he belonged in a good place. That he wasn't the boy he had once been. He was a better man now than he had ever dreamed of being back then.

He wasn't sure how many people saw his intentions for what he did. It was likely no one cared to think that hard to see past his desperate attempts at blending in with 'normal' people after the war. Right there, though, in that exact moment in that dirty pub with the alcohol weakening him into a raw state, Draco was aware that at least one person had paid attention. One person – perhaps the one that mattered the most – saw his intentions and validated them for him just when he needed it the most.

That is why Draco broke down into a blubbering mess upon the worn lacquer of the table. That is why he allowed his shoulders to shake without abandon and his breath to hitch as he let out all of the emotion he had been holding back these last two weeks.

A warm arm curled around Draco's shoulders a moment later. Potter – no, Harry – squeezed him in an encouraging fashion and whispered that he should just let it all out. That if he cried now, it would only make his determination stronger.

Harry made so many promises in that pub. He guaranteed that Draco would see his son again. Alive. He would be able to hold him in his arms again as soon as possible and would be able to keep him safe for the rest of his life. He said that he wouldn't give up hope until they had a reason to. He would force his office to search for that boy like it was his own.

Draco left afterwards rejuvenated with a purpose. He left confidant that someone was one his side. Someone out there was determined to bring his innocent, little boy home. And he believed Harry – every single word he said.

~*~

_When the man left that night, Scorpius' heart left with him. He couldn't feel anything left in his chest because he couldn't feel anything at all._

_He was numb._

_Torn apart._

_Vandalized and ruined._

_For a five-year-old, he held a great deal of blame for himself. As he curled into a weeping ball, shivering and questioning everything, all he could think about were the 'if only's._

_If only he had stayed where he was supposed to._

_If only he had run away and screamed for help._

_If only he had said no tonight._

_If only he was bigger and could fight for himself._

_If only his parents loved him enough to find him. To rescue him._

_Scorpius couldn't sleep that night. Every time he closed his eyes, he swore there was the sound of footsteps upon the stairs. His breath would hitch and he would feel like his lungs were constricting. His fingers would curl tight around the corners of the thin blanket on his uncomfortable bed, holding onto it like a lifeline. But a few moments later, the fear would pass and his heavy eyelids would once again try to fall. It was a never-ending cycle that only ended up furthering his paranoia._

_As the sliver of light returned at the window the next morning, the boy found it difficult to find the will to leave his bed. He remembered vaguely being told that there was more food for him in a bag by the stairs. In order to get to it, however, he would have to leave the safety and warmth of these ratty linens. He would have to get up and expose himself to the world and he just wasn't ready for that yet._

_He also no longer had a light source. After what had happened the night before, he hadn't known how to speak. Letting 'Daddy' know that he had wasted the batteries in his flashlight wasn't the first thing on his mind. The first thing on his mind had been, in fact to run to his waste bucket and relieve his roiling stomach. For which 'Daddy', of course, scolded him and told him was unacceptable from then on. It was disgusting and unappealing._

_Which, of course, only made Scorpius want to do it more. He_ wanted _to be disgusting to the man. He wanted the man to find him unappealing and let him go. He didn't want to be 'honored' with being chosen for…whatever this was._

_This thing he was sure he was too young to understand._

~*~

"Harry thinks they found a credible lead today."

Draco couldn't hide the slight gleam to his demeanor as he settled on the edge of the mattress. He would definitely hesitate to say that he was happy, but if there was an emotion a few steps below that…he was definitely there. His heart was a bit lighter. Hopeful. Through the last month since Harry agreed to put better focus on the Malfoy's case, things had definitely improved. It was no longer just him out beating the streets for any whisper of information. He now had people behind him who could help – even if they were forced to. And every day, he started to feel better about the way this would end.

Astoria, on the other hand, couldn't be bothered to try and care about any of it. At all. "'Kay," she said simply, lounging back against the pillows and letting out a long breath through her flared nostrils.

She had been just as passive aggressive as this for the entire month. She didn't care. Swallowing the sickness he could feel rising in his throat at her lack of response, Draco pulled off his shirt and laid down in bed beside her. "Sorry…. I know you don't like that sort of conversation in the bedroom. I just…." He shrugged, nuzzling her neck gently. "I figured you would want to know. But I won't bring it up again."

The only way their marriage was still thriving, Draco was sure, was because he listened when Astoria asked him to stop talking to her about the case. It was easier for her, she said, to accept Scorpius' death than his disappearance. She had already grieved the loss of their child, she said. She was ready to move on with her life, she implied.

There were just those times where he wished she could suck it up for a  _moment_  and pretend to care that he was trying to do good. Shaking thoughts of this from his head, Draco sat up further. He hooked his right leg around Astoria's waist and leaned in to kiss her hungrily. She, per usual as of late, returned his passion with the bare minimum.

She was distant and cold, these days. But Draco wasn't ready to lose her.

"For the moment," he whispered, coming up for air before setting his teeth to the sweet spot of her neck, "pretend you still want this family, 'Toria. Please…."

The harsh sigh the woman beneath him gave caused Draco to wince back in anticipation. He looked down at his wife - the complete disinterested glaze to her eyes and the straight line of her pink lips – and knew what she intended to say long before it left her tongue. "I can't anymore, Draco. I can't pretend because…I don't want this anymore. I don't want…."

"Me," Draco finished for her, a heaviness arising in his throat. He attempted to clear it, but found the effort useless. "You don't want… _me_  anymore."

Astoria merely shrugged and used her palms to lift herself up into a sitting position. It was Draco's cue to back away that he took with a bitter swallow. "Let's face it, Draco…. You and I – we didn't work before Scorpius. We were never right together. You were always off trying to repair your image by acting 'good' and 'decent'. Attending functions and struggling through things you couldn't force yourself to commit to. And I…. I followed behind you like the dutiful wife. I was just your shadow. And once we had Scorpius, I could finally escape that.

"But now…."

Now things were different. Astoria and Draco no longer had that  _thing_  that held them together. They were now just the two of them again. Before, that had been okay. They had still been young and didn't quite understand what they were missing. But now, after losing that one singular thing that had completed them, they could feel the hole. It was an itching, burning, gaping rip in what they used to be and it wasn't something that could be fixed.

It was what it was.

Seeing the look in Astoria's eyes – the one that said she was ready to run – Draco desperately tried for a solution. Tried to reason with the woman who had so clearly already made up her mind. "What about when he comes  _back_ , Astoria?" he asked, his voice high and hysterical. "You can't leave because…he's going to want you when he comes  _back_."

That was exactly the difference between them. Astoria didn't believe that their son was coming back. She didn't have to worry about the boy's feelings or needs because she felt he was already gone. There was no reasoning with someone who had already decided to give up.

When Draco awoke the next morning to find his wife already gone, he understood that completely. Everything attached to her name - everything that made the apartment  _theirs_  - had disappeared as if it was never there in the first place.

If it were at all possible, Draco was sure that morning that he was more determined than ever. He would prove that woman wrong. He would bring their son home and show her the mistakes she had made.

~*~

_Obedience was a notion Scorpius was coming to despise. Night after night, he did as he was told and hated every single second of it. He knew, though, that if he were to act out and refuse, there would be consequences. 'Daddy' had stumbled up the stairs one of those early nights and said as much. His words were sloppy and heavy and he was extra rough that night. His motions left bruises and aches all over the boy's body._

_And left him with a promise of a bloody death if he were to ever prove 'useless'._

_Scorpius didn't want to die. He wanted to go home one day – it was the only thing he could dream about at night and find solace in. So he would say 'yes, sir' and do everything he was told, left with bitter, salty tastes in his mouth and pain in places he was sure were private. Every day he would wear those itchy dresses and the shoes that numbed his toes and the panties that were uncomfortably tight. He would lie there during the day, dreading the night. He would wince every single time the door to this room of terror opened._

_And, day after day, things never got better. Nothing ever changed and no one was coming to rescue him. Because he was going to die in that room._

~*~

Little Scorpius Hyperion Malfoy was born on wet, blustery day in October. He was premature by a month and had fought to stay alive for the first couple days in this world. From this, everyone knew what a fragile thing he was. His skin was deathly pale, so they kept him out of the sun. He was small-boned and weak, so they kept him away from other children who might be too rough. He had a sweet disposition, so they kept the boy quite sheltered.

But this wasn't all that the family took away from Scorpius' near-death as a baby. Most of them, yes, would only remember the weak little thing he was. It was, however, also worth noting that Draco took this to mean that his son was a fighter.

Draco wouldn't give up on his son because he knew that the boy was out there, holding onto his life. He had no idea where the boy was, but he knew that wherever he was, he was  _living_. He was doing what was necessary to survive. And when he found Scorpius, he was going to show him just how proud he was of that.

Today was Scorpius' sixth birthday and this was all Draco could think about. He kept whispering silent prayers into the universe as he went about his day, telling his little boy to hold out just a mite longer. To just stay strong until Daddy could find him and bring him home.

It didn't feel right not celebrating the birthday. Even though Scorpius wasn't there with them, passing over the occasion didn't feel right. That was why Draco was sitting inside the little café, watching people walk by as if things were completely normal. Why he had asked his separated wife to meet him here. And why, he assumed, she had reluctantly agreed to come.

"Sorry I'm late," Astoria sighed as she finally arrived and wearily took the seat across from Draco. He examined her, not having seen or spoken to his wife since she had left that night three months ago. Unfortunately for him, she looked well. Happy, even. There were no bags under her eyes and she was perfectly done up, per usual. She looked a great deal better than the man across from her. She was radiant. "I just, um…. You know what, never mind. It doesn't matter." A split second later, she was looking him over in much the same way. "It's good to see you," she said softly, her voice terse. Cordial without feeling.

Draco could see the judgments in her eyes. She was thinking it was a good thing she left when she did. He was sleeping and eating even less with her gone. All of his energy and time was devoted to his crusade – pointless in her opinion. "You, too," he replied, meaning every single breath of it. He would be lying if he were to say he didn't miss his wife.

The waitress came by a moment later, cutting off any immature idea Draco had of begging for Astoria to come back home. He cleared his throat, hardening his emotions before purveying the menu with great interest. "We'll start with…a couple glasses of chardonnay. Anything you have is fine."

"Actually." Draco looked up in surprise, catching Astoria's cautious glance his way. "Just a glass for him, I'll pass."

"It's no trouble, 'Toria." She flinched at the nickname and his brow only furrowed further. "Today is a day we should celebrate. Have a glass…. For me. For Scorpius."

If Draco hadn't seen the unintended flutter of Astoria's hand towards her belly, he would have continued insisting. But in that instant his heart sank and the fight left him completely. "On second thought…just the one for me," he muttered to their waitress and waved her off. His mouth felt suddenly dry and his head was filled with a thousand different thoughts. Betrayal, disgust, confusion, white-hot fury.

Swallowing the insults and screams threatening to break through, Draco forced himself to stay casual. He should have expected something like this. Maybe not quite so soon or so brazenly hurtful…but something like this. "So," he started casually, not for a second allowing his heavy gaze to leave Astoria, "who are you living with?"

Pretending to be absolutely enraptured with the menu, Astoria shrugged her shoulders delicately. She was going to try and pass this off as nothing. And maybe to her it was nothing. Maybe this marriage really did mean nothing to her anymore. "A friend. Um…Blaise. I'm living with Blaise." Again, she hunched her shoulders in a nonchalant fashion. She was perfectly okay with the choices she had made.

"Is he excited to be a father?"

The sure smile slipped from Astoria's lips. Draco was glad to see it happen – glad to see that he could wipe the smugness from her eyes. She was thrown off guard, mouth gaping open and closed like a lame fish as she searched for an answer.

Unfortunately for Draco, her response came a little quicker than he would have hoped. He kind of liked seeing her struggle for once. But the sharp slap of a manila folder upon the tabletop punctuated her swift recovering, turning the tables. It was his turn to be speechless. His turn to stare at her with a mixture of disgust and surprise. "What is this?" he whispered, holding back his horror at knowing  _exactly_  what it was.

"I think it's time we were free of one another. It's…. It's what Scorpius would have wanted for us."

Draco wanted to scream and shout and throw a fit. He wanted to stand up and throw the folder to the other side of the room and demand that it be destroyed. This was  _not_  what Scorpius would have wanted. The boy would want his parents to still be  _together_  when he returned home. He was a little boy and that was _all_  he would want. Keeping his composure, however, Draco merely flipped the cover over and confirmed his suspicions on the contents. "You want a divorce," he said in the most measured tone he could manage.

He didn't see Astoria's nod. He didn't hear her further rationalizations. Everything was white noise now and all he could see were the words jumping up off the page. All of the legal jargon that told him exactly how his wife felt without even needing to hear her pleas. She was no longer in love with him. She was moving on from her crazy husband who just couldn't  _let go_. She was starting a new family and leaving her old one in the past where she believed it belonged.

Suddenly, Draco felt like he needed a much stronger drink. He drug a hand across his mouth, wiping tears from the wobbling corners of his lips. "Fine," he whispered and pulled out his wand. Uncaring of their Muggle setting and using magic around those who didn't understand, he waved it with a vengeful flourish. The deed was done. His name was signed upon the appropriate line and it was finished. There was no need to drag this out any longer than it had to be. Magical contracts were simple to handle.

And so, just like that, they ceased to mean anything to one another anymore. Draco forced his heart to harden against the only woman he had ever fallen in love with. Astoria gave a secret smile and tucked the folder delicately back into her purse. "I should get going," she said softly and stood, walking out with a near-patronizing press of her lips to her now ex-husband's pulsing temple.

~*~

_Scorpius couldn't say that he fought the entire time. He couldn't say that he never gave up hope. He couldn't honestly pretend that he was strong the entire time he was held captive. Most days, he couldn't even pull himself up out of that bed in order to feed himself. He was weak and cried constantly. The things he did to survive were shameful and filled him with a type of self-hate someone so young should never have to understand._

_There was no way of telling how long Scorpius had been missing. He tried to mark the days in dust upon the floor, but the instant 'Daddy' realized it, he wiped it clean. And then proceeded to show him what a naughty boy he had been._

_He gave up hungering for release after a while. It wasn't worth it to concentrate energy upon something he knew would never come._

_He gave up struggling when 'Daddy' pinned him down at nights and blocked out the pain with little effort. It was routine now and he had become rather adept at being somewhere else in his head when the bad things happened._

_He gave up thinking the clothes he wore were uncomfortable because things sure as Hell were better when they were still on._

_He gave up crying at the injuries he would sustain and learned how to deal with them. He was better than anyone his age at dressing cuts and nursing pulled muscles._

_If Scorpius knew how to give up living, he would have done that, too._

_He just…gave up._

_Throughout his life, Scorpius had heard his father tell him over and over again what a fighter he was. That he was a strong little boy, despite what everyone else said. He wasn't delicate or fragile. He didn't have to avoid going out in the sun or playing with other children if he didn't want to. If he chose to do what he wanted, things would be okay because he was a_ fighter _._

_Scorpius always found this such an endearing thing for his father to say. He would beam like a ray of absolute sunshine at the compliment and hug the man as tight as he could. These days, though, he was sure his father wouldn't say such a thing. The boy was anything but a fighter now. He was a pathetic worm crushed under the boot of someone he had no chance of fighting back against. He was a loser._

_The day that things changed had nothing to do with Scorpius' bravery of strength. It was a mistake and it shouldn't have happened. He had no part in it except for to take the chance given to him._

_Every morning – every single morning – Scorpius would wake to the sound of loud clamoring downstairs. 'Daddy' wasn't a quiet man. He made more noise than humanly possible, getting ready for work, the boy assumed. That morning was no different. He shot up in bed with wide fearful eyes at the sound of a loud crash resounding from down below him. For a moment he feared what it could be, but as soon as he heard movement again, he put it out of his mind._

_It was nothing._

_He laid back down, staring up at the dark ceiling as he listened to the almost comforting sounds of the man leaving the house. As he also did every morning, 'Daddy' undid the lock to the door at the bottom of the stairs. Scorpius listened to every click and clatter, knowing them by heart. He would unsecure that lock, open the door, slip a plate of foot onto the last stair, close the door, and resecure the lock._

_Except…. Today was different. Where Scorpius expected to hear that last click that signified he was nearly alone for the day, there was just…nothing. Silence. Holding his breath, he listened to the soft bustling that signified the man readying to leave._

_And then the front door slammed shut and Scorpius couldn't close his stunned gape of a mouth._

_It was still dark and he didn't know where his flashlight was, but the boy didn't care. He launched himself out of the bed that held so many nightmares and across the room. He ran into walls and tripped over his own feet, but he finally reached the stairs. Once he was there, he felt like it must be too good to be true. Slowly and with extreme caution – 'Daddy' could be lurking on the other side of the door… - Scorpius descended the stairs one at a time. He tried so hard to keep quiet, but the hard underside of the too-tight shoes made a small tap with every step he took._

_Finally, as his little heart felt like it was ready to beat out of his chest, he reached the bottom step. With a slight vengeance, he toed aside the dry sandwich that always had the bitter taste. His eyes then raised to the door. Barely daring to breath, he reached out in the dark and located the doorknob. One twist and he could literally feel hope balloon him up._

_Scorpius couldn't contain the relieved giggle he let out as the knob gave and the door pushed open. In his excitement, he rushed it and fell face-first to the floor. Brushing it off, he stood quickly and put blinders on for escape. The house was small and didn't take long to cross through. In a matter of seconds, he was out the front door and stumbling into the lawn._

_The sunlight blinded his eyes and he couldn't see a thing and the air was too clean. But this was freedom and he soaked up every second of it. Elated tears falling down his cheeks, he rolled in the cold, wet snow upon the ground. It must have been winter for he could feel the nip upon his sheltered skin._

" _Little girl! What on_ Earth _are you doing out in this weather without a coat?!"_

_The woman's voice was like an awakening beacon. Scorpius sat up straight and looked around him. 'Daddy' could have seen him running out of the house. He could have been watching and taken him back. Why had he stopped running? Terrified once again, he struggled to his feet and ran towards the woman in the street. "Help," he cried feebly in a voice hoarse from all those months of going unused._

_Shrinking back from the dirty, bug-eyed child in a torn-up dress, the woman looked around as well. "Where is your mother, child?"_

" _Take me home…. Mummy! I wanna see my mummy…. Please…."_

_Darkness came not but a moment later. Scorpius hadn't exuded this type of energy in months. He hadn't left that little bed much and certainly hadn't run after frightened old ladies. He blacked out, sobbing in desperation._

_The only thing he could hope for at that point was to be taken home. That this woman would not bring him back to that house where he had been held captive for too long._

_All Scorpius wanted was to finally be rid of the monster in his life. He wanted to go home._

~*~

Draco happened to be at the Ministry when the news came. He and Harry were locked away in the Auror's office, pouring over books of spells for a hint of one they might not have tried yet. It was how they usually passed time these days. There wasn't much else they could do productively….

"Hey, uh…. Potter? Sir? There's…." Doren cleared his throat and Draco ignored him. He was often a stuttering, bumbling fool. Their working relationship was best when they didn't acknowledge one another's presence. "Could you…come down to the Observation Room?"

"I'll be back," Harry muttered, giving the usual terse smile he gave Draco. The one that said they were definitely friendly now, but mostly to maintain a business relationship. The blonde nodded and waved him off, not giving it much thought. The man was constantly off doing this or that for other people.

When Harry came running back into the room not a minute later, however, Draco definitely took notice. His head whipped around, dark brow raised in silent question. "They found him! They found Scorpius."

It was all Draco needed to hear. He was on his feet in an instant, following the other at nothing less than a sprint. "Where is he?" he asked breathlessly when they stopped down a corridor. In front of him were two doors. He had never been through either, but knew what was on the other side. To the right was the Observation Room, usually used for non-invasive interviews with children. It was full of toys and comfortable furniture and coloring pages. To the right was what sat behind the one-way glass in that room – the real observation room where people could look on without the children knowing. "Is he in here?" he asked softly, fingers falling delicately upon the door handle to the room on the right.

Looking as pained as Draco felt, Harry took hold of the other's elbow and guided him to the left instead. "He…. He needs to be assessed first. They need his story."

The process made sense. It was something that worked, Draco was sure. But in that moment he just didn't care. As he entered the room and sidled up behind the glass, as close as he could comfortably get, he just felt angry. Five months –  _five_  – he had gone without seeing the little boy in that room. It felt like if he had to wait too much longer, he was going to burst into physical flames.

Throat swelled up with emotion, he touched his fingers to the glass and ran them over the image he could see of the little blonde boy. His blonde curls were matted and snarled up close to his head and his skin was an eerie, almost translucent white. Once, Scorpius would have considered those big, silver eyes to be his son's most innocent feature. Now they held ghosts of horrors trapped inside. He was thin and wasting away, flecked with cuts and bruises and grime. His little body sat like a paper doll in a frilly, lacy, pink dress that curdled the man's insides.

It took everything Draco had not to break down into a mess right there.

Luckily, a distraction came quickly. A man Draco had never met or seen before entered the room, a kind and cautious smile upon his lips. He was a bit short for a man and his arms were covered as far as he could tell with tattoos. But, overall, he seemed to have a kind face. Scorpius didn't look up or acknowledge him, leaving his father to wonder if he was even alive in there. He hadn't moved….

"Who is that?" he asked softly, keeping his voice low in case he missed any exchange from the other side of the glass.

Harry stepped up beside him, nodding a way that signified approval. "His name is Ashley Hammon. He works for the DMLE as a child specialist. He's good with the children – especially those who have been through trauma." His words were his soft way of saying that Draco had nothing to worry about.

~*~

_Scorpius had no idea where he was. He had woken up and he was just…here. It was another room with no windows, just a large mirror on one side of the room. The little couch he rested upon was soft and warm and there was a natural glow around the room that indicated magical lighting. The boy wasn't home, but he felt like he might be safe._

_Or safer._

_He stared around the room, unmoving. It was unclear if he was allowed to. There were toys and coloring books all around him, but he didn't know if they were his. A large stuffed lion sat in a chair opposite him and he kept his eyes trained to it. The mirror was just above his head to the right, but he didn't dare get up and look at himself. He was sure that if he did, he wouldn't recognize who he was anymore._

_The door opened on the other side of the room and Scorpius' eyes lazily roamed over towards it. He tilted his head just slightly, just a fraction, at the man who entered. He was painted with tattoos much like Aunt Daph's and his lips were formed into a smile. It was a fake smile, Scorpius realized. He looked…unsure. "Hello," the man said softly and took a seat at a small table. He set a few papers down upon it, staring at them while he breathed._

" _Can I go home?" Scorpius asked cautiously. His throat was dry and his words came out as a dark rasp._

_Jumping at the noise, the man looked up at the boy. He slipped a messenger bag off of his shoulder, digging around in it for a moment and coming up with a bottle of water. "In a little bit, I think," the kinda man said gently as he set the bottle on the table. "Are you thirsty? You can have this water if you would like. I think they're bringing lunch in for you soon, but…this should hold you over."_

_Scorpius_ was _thirsty. He had been thirsty for months. The nod he gave was nearly imperceptible as he pulled himself up off the couch. He crept over towards the table, always keeping one eye on the man in the chair. From an outsider's point of view, the boy must look like a caged animal. He crept like he was scared of humans and the things they had the potential for. When he snatched up the bottle of water, he quickly retreated back to his safe spot and greedily downed most of the liquid before it could be stolen from him._

_Caution sparked in the man's eyes as he watched the boy, jotting a few notes upon one of his papers. "My name is Ashley. Can you tell me what your name is?" He kept his voice even for the most part, but a sad ache was still underneath his tone._

" _Scorpius."_

" _And can you tell me where you live?"_

_Flashes of the darkness came back full-force. Scorpius hissed in a breath, squeezing his eyes shut and burying his face in his knees. They were going to take him back to the dark room. They were going to give him back to 'Daddy'. "I don't wanna!" he cried, his legs muffling his panicked outburst. "I don't wanna go back!"_

_Ashley swore under his breath, standing from the table and crossing to the couch. The boy shifted away from him when he sat beside him, so he settled for a soft hand upon the small arm. "We aren't going to send you anywhere you don't want to go, Scorpius. I promise. Why don't you…tell me about this place you don't want to go back to? Can you tell me why it scares you?"_

_Memory after memory flashed before Scorpius' eyes. He buried his eyes even further into the darkness to try and make them disappear. "It's dark," he said through hitched breaths. "Dark and cold and dirty."_

" _And who put you there?"_

"' _Daddy'…." The hitch on the man's breath caused Scorpius to raise his head. He looked him over, the doe-eyed expression of concern. "He told me to call him 'Daddy'…," he clarified and laid his cheek upon his knees. "I didn't want to but…but he hurt me if I didn't obey. He hurt me…."_

_Ashely relaxed again, nodding and listening with a softer expression. "How would he hurt you? Could you show me?" He turned towards the giant lion, pointing it out. "Can you show me on the lion?"_

_Scorpius didn't like the idea of showing this man what had happened to him. It felt private and_ wrong _. It felt like he wasn't supposed to know these things and might get in trouble. Cautiously, he stood up again and walked over to the lion. The easiest to show was the slap. He pulled his arm back and mimicked the harsh smack he would regularly receive to his face. He then threw the lion down on the ground, symbolizing the man throwing him to the bed. His little hands went around the stuffed animal's throat, feeling like his own windpipe was closing again. His breaths were ragged and erratic, but he didn't stop there. Punches, bites, and a good amount of limb twisting later had Scorpius straddled over the lion._

_The moment he went to force the animal's legs open, Ashley was on his feet. He was at the boy's side, quietly hovering like he didn't know what to do. "Is…is that all?" he whispered, too afraid of the answer to give the words a higher volume._

_With a shrug, Scorpius looked down at the lion. For a moment, he was in the place of the toy and he was crying and screaming for it to be over. "He said he was…giving me a treat," he muttered, falling forward to rest on the lion's chest, squeezing his eyes shut as he remembered every single touch and painful sensation. While pulling in deep, ragged breaths of air, the boy asked, "Where's the lion's willy?"_

_The next thing Scorpius heard was the slam of a door. He looked up from his spot on top of the lion, tears covering his cheeks in confusion. "Ashley?" he asked softly, feeling abandoned. Maybe he thought Scorpius was lying…. Or maybe Scorpius had done something bad and he was now in trouble. Maybe they were going to take him back to 'Daddy' because that's where he belonged._

_Whimpering, he laid back down on the stuffed lion and cuddled into its fur. "I'm sorry...," he whispered._

~*~

"That boy needs to get medical attention –  _now_!"

Draco left the viewing room with unabashed tears on his cheeks. The specialist was already in the corridor, yelling about the scared little boy after having walked out on him. He was just saying what they already knew – Scorpius needed to see a Healer. He had clearly been hurt further than any of them had expected.

"Let me see my son," he muttered to Harry, following him to the door of the Observation Room. "I need to see him and…and he needs to see him. I need to let him know that I'm here for him.  _Please_."

Shaking his head solemnly, Harry continued on past the door and back towards the offices. "You heard Ash – Scorpius needs to see a Healer. He needs to be checked out and…." He covered his hand with his mouth as he walked and Draco was suddenly questioning if he was holding back bile as well.

Violent and resolute, Draco grabbed onto the other man's arm and pulled him backwards in order to stop his steps away from the situation. "If you tell me 'no' one more time…I will march back there and curse everyone in order to let myself in. Do I make myself clear?" he hissed, a flash of the dangerous adolescent he had been coming back in his threatening grey eyes.

Swallowing hard, Harry nodded and looked back towards the Observation Room. "Okay," he said under his breath. "I'll let you in. Just…be careful. He's fragile right now. There's no way of knowing how he's going to react."

"He thinks he's at fault here, Harry. He just needs to know that someone loves him and wants to kill the man who did this to him."

~*~

_Scorpius had come to realize that he was going to go to Azkaban. He had done something terribly wrong. That's why they were holding him in this room. He had checked the door handle and it was definitely locked. This was just another prison, like the one he had been in at the man's house._

_He pulled himself away from the lion, backing away from it like he was afraid it would come alive and inflict its retribution. It was wrong – doing that sort of thing. Scorpius knew that. He didn't need Ashley to tell him that. His reaction had been enough. And now, since he had acted that out and shown him the terrible things, he was going to be in trouble._

_It wasn't like he had asked for this. He was a child. Just a kid. In a desperate attempt to relieve some of the ache in his heart, the boy clutched his fingers together in a frantic, twisting motion by his mouth. He bit at his knuckle and slammed the back of his hand into his lips. An itching in the back of his brain told him he should punish himself. If he did it himself, then maybe they could see that he was trying not to be like the man. He was just trying to be a boy again._

_Slowly, Scorpius' twitching hands came to rest. The overgrown, jagged fingernail of his thumb came to rest between his teeth and he looked around him. He sank down to the floor, legs going criss-cross and arms going to his sides. After a breath of anticipation and a gritting of his teeth, he nodded and curled his little hands into fists._

~*~

When Draco eased the door to the Observation Room open, he braced himself for the worst. For seeing his son in the derelict state he now was and accepting it. To know what had happened to him and not break down into a bumbling mess.

What he hadn't braced himself for was what he walked into. Sitting in the middle of the room was his little boy. He was so much smaller than he had been when he'd last seen him. So thin and wasted away to nearly nothing in body and spirit. And his tiny little fists attached to his emaciated arms were flying. He was lashing out at his legs and his chest as hard as he could. It wasn't with all too much force, considering the state of him, but it was definitely enough for Draco to call out the boy's name in protest.

The instant he heard that voice, Scorpius froze. His head shot up and he latched onto those eyes so similar to his own. His mouth fell open and he seemed to blink out of shock. Like he wasn't seeing things clearly. "D-Dad…?"

Draco didn't even care that he was no longer 'Daddy'. He could understand why his son would never want to call him such a name again, having heard what he did. "Hey, baby boy," he said slowly and lowered himself down to his knees.

Not but a second later, a mass of dirty, stinky, unrecognizable boy flung himself into Draco's arms. But none of that mattered. He could get past the smell and the grime under his fingers and the way he felt like he didn't know this child anymore. None of that mattered once his arms closed around the boy that was his to protect and hold.

They cried together. Draco wasn't even close to ashamed of admitting this. His eyes and nose ran like faucets and he could feel the front of his shirt getting soaked through. "It's okay," he whispered down to the broken thing in his arms. "I'm here and it's okay now."

~*~

" _Where's Mummy?" Scorpius whispered desperately, climbing up further into his father's lap. He pressed in so close, they could have become one person. The strength the man gave off was like a safety blanket. He wasn't in the least ungrateful for the comfort and the consoling. But the boy couldn't help but to feel like something was missing. A part of his family was missing and he needed it back._

_He just needed home right now._

_Sighing softly into the matted curls, Draco held the boy tighter. "Mummy is…. I don't know right now, Scorpius. I don't know…. I'm sorry." He made a broken noise before finding a way to continue. "Mummy loves you, okay? She does. She just…. When you disappeared, she didn't know that you would come back. So Mummy…left Dad. She needed something else."_

_Because of him, Mummy was gone. Scorpius sniffled at the thought and shook his head against the strong chest. He hadn't listened and had caused this to happen. Now Mummy was gone and his dad was lonely. It was all his fault. "It's okay," Scorpius consoled, his voice hollow with guilt. Dad has Scorpius now. And Scorpius has Dad." He nuzzled into the man's neck, wrapping his feeble arms around the man as best as he could._

_Half of Scorpius' family felt like it was gone. But at least he still had this half. He still had his dad and his dad still cared._

~*~

"I looked for you every single day you were gone. Don't ever forget that, Scorpius." Never letting go of his son, Draco stood and carried him tight against him towards the couch he had been sitting on a while ago. He sat down, pulling a blanket up over the boy and cradling him.

In that moment, he vowed never to leave this boy in the dust. Scorpius was broken and that was something that could never be undone. He had lost his innocence and everything that made him a little boy. But that didn't mean he had to have a broken life. Every step of the way, Draco vowed to be there.

"I won't leave you, Scorpius," he muttered, feeling the boy grow heavier with sleep in his arms. "I will always be here."

The days, weeks, months,  _years_  to come would be difficult. There would be nightmares and screaming and flinching and absolute breakdowns. It would never be smooth or easy again. This mess that man had put them in would affect this boy for the rest of his life. But Draco would never let him go it alone

He would never abandon hope that one day Scorpius could regain an  _ounce_  of the innocence he had lost. That he could smile without worry and play without fear. That he would learn to trust people again and feel welcome in a world full of obstacles he wasn't ready to face.

Draco Malfoy would never give up on his son. Ever.


End file.
